Episode 430
Chapter 124: The Elders in Crisis (4)
Smarion Prochi.
Jin didn’t know much about him. But anyone with even a passing interest in the history of warriors would know one thing for sure: Smarion was practically a mutant.
He was born into an ordinary farming family.
Yet from childhood, he seemed possessed by a murderous spirit, skilled at harming others. The first people he killed were his own parents.
Over the centuries, he became a legendary figure who destroyed Seigalga—the ruler of the Ghost Corps—and planted the Prochi banner atop the Ghost Valley Fortress.
That was Smarion, the father of Lata and Pey.
“I thought Smarion died around the time Lata was entering his boyhood,” Jin said, struggling to grasp the fact that the ominous energy they were sensing belonged to Smarion.
“What do you mean?” Lata asked.
“My father was born a demon. He killed his own parents and tried countless times to kill me and Pey as well.”
But Smarion’s attempts to kill his children weren’t like the cold-blooded assassinations or harsh training methods of other warrior clans. It was all part of a twisted form of ‘education.’
Reluctantly, Lata admitted that thanks to this brutal upbringing, they had become strong. Smarion’s madness was always calculated to some extent.
“However, before the elders close to me became the materials for this seal and died, they told me that at some point, all sense of restraint vanished. He truly became a madman.”
Lata continued.
According to the elders’ accounts, Smarion began showing signs of change when Lata was about ten years old.
Though already infamous as a crazed killer, unlike previous commanders of the Ghost Corps, Smarion was known for his deep care for his subordinates.
Because of this, the Ghost Corps members were fiercely loyal to him, and he trusted them in return.
But after the ‘change’ began, his behavior gradually shifted.
“They say he tortured and killed his men and their families using unimaginable, grotesque methods.”
“I’ve never heard such rumors about the previous commander,” Jin said.
“That’s because the dead elders kept all records and stories from leaking out. He wasn’t just cruel to his subordinates—he inflicted terrible self-harm on himself as well.”
“If the previous commander had shown such signs, it wouldn’t have ended with mere rebellion.”
“There were several uprisings. Each time, my father crushed them with overwhelming skill. You probably don’t know this, but my father once fought Lord Siron.”
“My father and the previous commander…?”
Jin had no idea such a secret history existed between Runcandel and the Ghost Corps.
In fact, the records weren’t even stored in the Ghost Valley Fortress. They were top secret, accessible only to the clan head of Runcandel.
“I never saw it myself. It happened before I was born. But the fight lasted an entire day, and though Lord Siron eventually won, for some reason he didn’t take my father’s head.”
Siron sparing the loser’s life.
Jin found it hard to imagine, but Siron must have been young then, so it was plausible.
“After that, Lord Siron often visited the Ghost Valley Fortress. He and my father would have grand battles or just talk.”
“Really?”
“While I don’t know about the day-long fight, Pey and I saw Siron drinking with my father several times.”
Siron sharing drinks and conversation with someone like Smarion was a difficult image for Jin to picture.
“At those times, even that madman became a kind father. He’d let us sit on his lap and laugh heartily.”
“That must be a good memory for you.”
“Looking back, I think my father wanted to impress Lord Siron.”
“Do you remember what they usually talked about?”
Jin’s curiosity flared. What had existed between Siron Runcandel and Smarion Prochi? Amid the overwhelming ominous energy, the question burned fiercely.
“I was too young to remember much. But…” Lata looked at the red seal and continued.
“There’s one scene I remember vividly. I was sitting beside them, holding Pey and eating snacks after a long time. Lord Siron watched us for a moment, then asked my father a question.”
—Smarion, how are you these days? Is it alright?
“That…?”
“And my father answered like this.”
—How could it be alright, Siron? You know I don’t have much time left.
When my father finally became that complete monster, and the elders who cared for me became the materials for the seal, I hated him with all my heart. Yet somehow, that scene kept coming back to me—the way he said he didn’t have much time left.”
At that moment, a strong sense of déjà vu surged through Jin.
When he returned from Laprarosa and became a rider, Siron had said the exact same thing to him.
“You don’t have much time left. What could that mean…?”
At the time, Jin hadn’t dwelled on it deeply.
More precisely, instead of worrying about why Siron’s time was running out, he focused on the meaning behind those words.
He concluded that he had to become clan head before Siron’s time ran out.
Smarion. How are you these days?
That ‘it.’
Suddenly, Jin wondered if ‘that’ was the link between Siron and Smarion.
“If Smarion became a monster because of something his father called ‘that,’ and if his father has the same problem…?”
Perhaps that was why Siron and Smarion often met.
As the thought settled, a terrifying possibility arose.
“My father… could become a monster too. Like Smarion Prochi beyond this seal.”
Because Smarion said, “As you know,” Jin couldn’t shake the suspicion. Usually, that phrase implies the other person is experiencing the same thing.
His heart pounded wildly, blood rushing faster.
“Lord Lata, have you ever heard what your father meant by ‘that’?”
“Unfortunately, no. I’ve asked the dead elders several times, but they didn’t know either. Only Lord Siron knows.”
The Black Sea.
Jin felt certain it was connected to that dark land.
It must be deeply related to why Siron was so obsessed with the Black Sea.
“What my father is fixated on in the Black Sea, and what he seeks there, I’ll only learn when Lady Luna returns.”
And the monster beyond this red seal might hold a clue. Of course, before being a clue, it was the Ghost Corps’ greatest weakness.
Jin gathered his thoughts and met Lata’s eyes.
“We can’t ask my father right now, so we’ll have to find out what ‘that’ is on our own.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“But more urgent are the elders who fled. They don’t just hold information about this seal—they also know that you and I have formed an alliance.”
Jin preferred not to announce to the world that the Ghost Corps was now under his control, at least for the time being.
It wouldn’t be harmful to reveal it, but he wanted to grow stronger first, then show the true extent of ‘Jin Runcandel’s power.’
Especially since the Ghost Corps needed to maintain a facade of neutrality and keep channels open with outside forces.
“Understood.”
“This is worse than expected. They’ve likely already surrendered, but let’s hope not. If Ziphl, Kinzello, the Imperial Court, or even Runcandel itself tries to break this seal and invade the Ghost Valley Fortress, we’re done for.”
“My apologies, my lord.”
“I’ll return immediately and deploy people. Give me the map with the predicted escape routes and all information on the traitors.”
“Understood.”
“And Lord Lata.”
“Yes, my lord?”
Jin smiled and added,
“I look forward to working with you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Meanwhile, while Jin was receiving the Ghost Corps’ oath of loyalty with Lata at the Ghost Valley Fortress, the elders of Runcandel were holding yet another grim meeting.
The situation was dire—truly a case of a fire burning at their feet.
“I never expected the acting clan head to come out like this.”
“This can’t be allowed. How much blood have we shed for the acting clan head all this time?”
“Hah! To prove the worth and purpose of the elders’ council… what more do they want from us?”
As the elders grumbled in frustration, the door creaked open.
“Has the elder chief arrived?”
“Elder chief!”
“Elder chief, have you heard what happened…?”
The newcomer was Elder Chief Jorden Runcandel. The elders had been anxiously awaiting his arrival.
They believed Jorden could somehow turn the situation around.
If not for the recent events centered around Jin, Jorden would have been pleased to see these old ghosts waiting on him like fledglings. Their sweet need for approval had clouded his judgment for too long.
But not anymore.
‘What pathetic fools…’
Anger and disgust welled up at their welcome.
When had it started?
Since when did the sharpest swords of Runcandel fall into such a sorry state…? The question gnawed at him relentlessly, and with it came a deep, aching regret that felt as if it was shattering every bone in his chest.
He wanted nothing more than to cut down these rotten minnows on the spot.
But Jorden didn’t forget that these people were still his strongest base of support. Nor did he ignore the fact that, like them, he had grown complacent over time.
“I have to reform—both myself and all of you—to become a pillar of Runcandel once more!”
If he didn’t, not only would claiming the throne be impossible, but surviving even within the Garden of Blades would become uncertain.
“I cannot help but feel disappointed in all of you… and in myself.”
“Elder Jorden…?”
Jorden’s gaze sharpened as he looked at the council elders.
“It’s time to reclaim the lost ferocity and spirit. If we continue like this, we will be weeded out and vanish. From this day forward, the council will no longer fight safe battles. Those who fear this should step aside now.”